


etching the pieces into place

by synergies



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Gen, uhhhh there are some kh3 spoilers?? i don't have much for tags today
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-08 23:17:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18904681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/synergies/pseuds/synergies
Summary: In darkness she comes from, to the past, she remains chained to.( There is another who can sympathize with her plight )





	etching the pieces into place

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ZScalantian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZScalantian/gifts).



> My part of the exchange is for ZScalantian. As I wanted to aim for getting much of the request as possible, I ended up writing some general fic featuring bonding between the Wayfinders and Naminé. This was mostly inspired / based upon that pre 0.2 convo from that one concert, though this fic is mostly ( post ) kh3 with some slight divergences probably, aka this is the kh3 spoiler warning. I hope you two can enjoy reading this fic as much as I did writing it! I also apologize because Wayfinders are not my usual go-to characters for writing and I struggled a little with placing their voices, but I hope that it is still an enjoyable read nonetheless!

### ( saving the memories for tomorrow's future )

It is never enough.

There is no such thing as ‘enough’ to fix the mistakes she has made.

Forgotten, left behind in the shadows— that is a fitting fate for her, nobody who was never meant to exist to begin with. To become unrecognizable when her own actions caused others to be erased from people’s memories. That is the fate she has succumbed to, and Naminé is, in some sense content with that; she has no right to be selfish enough to ask for more than that.

Content with her fate, but not with what she has left behind. No, even now, she understands there is still something to be done, that there are still things she can do. Connections she still has links to, so many memories have passed through her fingers like sand; even if they have been forgotten, she will trace those memories and let them lead her to those places just out of reach. Lead her to Sora, maybe; if not, then she hopes she can leave something more to help him— heal them— instead.

That is how she finds him, lost to time, lost in memories; Naminé finds him and guides him back towards the light.

And that is how she finds him again, lost in the darkness.

* * *

The others, she knows, they are all doing their parts to help Sora; so as she always has done, she will do her part to help them too. Naminé knows who to find, when they are given a second chance, that light in the darkness that has not yet been completely lost— traces a connection that she knows well enough at this point, calls out to that person whose will still lingers. He may be their last hope, she thinks; the key to turning the tides.

“Terra?” She can only hope her voice reaches him— in the darkness, she knows he is still blind to them, but if enough of her still exists to reach him, she is not certain.

His head turns slightly, gaze looks past her, but is reassuring of the fact he can be reached still, if he is reacting to her voice ( perhaps it is because they are both have a bit of darkness, she thinks, perhaps that is why she can reach him so easily, even in this place ). “Aqua?” He calls out, tentatively; she winces a little and thinks it is good he cannot see her right now.

“Sorry, I’m not...her. But she’s okay.” Or will be, if all goes according to plan ( and since they are leaving things up to Sora, all should go relatively well ). “I need to ask you something, Terra.”

“I...remember you. She’s not...the lights have gone dim. Something happened.” It is matter-of-factly, the way he says it, in a way she cannot argue with.

“Yes. Some of them have gone dim, but not all of them. They have not been extinguished yet.” She admits, hopes— she hopes that remains true. “You are not alone. You will find your way back to the light, and so will they. Follow the light to where they are, and fight with them. They are counting on you.”

“Is that what you wanted to ask?” Still, the man seems to speak with a renewed vigor, like the master he is meant to be; and despite that, she feels like their connection weakens momentarily, as if something ( or someone ) is trying to interfere. “I have been fighting for them, though. Have I not been doing enough?”

“No, you have been shielding them as much as you can, haven’t you? Please, keep fighting a little longer. Find the light, and you will find them too.” There’s a hint of urgency to her words, if only because she’s not sure how much time she has.

“Find the light.” He echoes. “Okay. I trust you.”

Naminé feels something bittersweet at hearing his words and briefly wishes that he didn’t trust her ( there is nothing trustworthy about a witch like her ). “Thank you, Terra. I’ll...be rooting for you to find them again.”

Her part done, she feels a little more at ease waiting to be able to go back to Kairi and surrendering to her fate as a nobody once again.

* * *

She is not sure what to expect of the Land of Departure. It is a different kind of fresh air than Radiant Garden is— or maybe it is just the feeling of being able to see the place for herself, instead of through another’s memories.

Regardless, it is comforting to be away from the tangles of memories and appreciate her surroundings; sketchbook in hand to doodle on. She makes a place for herself in among cliffside and trees, hands settling for drawing familiar figures time and time again ( Naminé wants to put those times behind her, and yet it is not so easy to do so; she has chained herself to those memories so much that she does not quite know how to release herself from that fate ). She misses out on the pitter patter of tiny footsteps as she focuses on correcting her drawings until it is too late, sketchbook pushed away slightly as the cat-like spirit hops onto her lap with a squeal of her name.

“Naminé!” Chirithy waves their stubby limbs at her gleefully, a gesture she can only return with equal enthusiasm— despite having only encountered them briefly during her time in...that place, she is relieved to see them here, that they could find their way home too. Loneliness, she understood that feeling all too well, could empathize with the little being too well; she had hoped that they were not left alone after everything else had happened. Unfortunately, she is not given the time to do much more than greet the other because, without any sort of warning, she is lifted from the ground— she tightens her hold on the spirit and watches resignedly as her sketchbook falls to the ground.

“Aqua, I found her!” The voice that speaks helps her place who has decided to lift her up as if she weighs nothing ( she probably doesn’t to him, if she is honest ), and hopes that she does not look as tense as she feels as she is spun around.

“No, Chirithy found her, you just followed the noise.” The second person to speak is another that is, in a sense, familiar to her ( even if only in memory, Ventus stands out distinctively enough ). Terra is not given a chance to respond to that, because the last of their trio speaks up next.

“Terra, put her down. She looks like you’ve scared her stiff.” The woman chides, and she silently thanks her for stepping in as he relents and places her back down— she is not as familiar with Aqua as she is the other two, but that isn’t really saying much.

“Ah, I was fine, really.” Naminé assures, placing Chirithy back down on their feet with a murmured apology ( she’d clutched at them a little tightly, she thinks ), and crouches down retrieve her sketchbook. Once she has straightened back out, however, she finds herself being pulled into a side hug.

“You remember Aqua and Ven, right?” Terra does not give her the chance to respond; it is an enthusiasm that reminds her distantly of Sora, something she cannot help but feel melancholic about. “I’ve...talked how much you helped me out back then. I was hoping I would be able to introduce you guys properly.”

“How come?” She speaks without meaning to ( she herself isn’t entirely certain to what part exactly she’s questioning ), a moment where her words are spoken rather haltingly. “I, uhm. I mean. I didn’t mean it badly...?”

If he has taken any offense to it, it doesn’t show; expression a mix of confusion and concern. “Because you’re my friend, and what you did was important?” She blinks at that, more than a little caught off guard by the statement.

_Friend?_

Even after being around someone like Sora, she can’t help but feel startled at hearing the word friend— she, witch who has caused so many people pain, does she deserve something like that? She’s not the one people have ever missed, never been wanted by anyone for any reason that wasn’t her powers ( that is not entirely true, perhaps, but it all comes back to her connections— even now, she would not have found him back then had it not been for those accursed powers of hers ).

“Hm?” Ventus seems to notice her silence, peering at her; expression morphing into something slightly alarmed. “Terra, you made her cry!”

She doesn’t notice it, but as Naminé raises a hand to her face, she realizes that he is indeed correct, rubbing at her eyes— if only for the sake she is not sure how else to respond. It is rather tragic, in a sense, that she has never really been moved to tears before, despite her losses; though that is perhaps because there has always been hope to permeate through her sadness. No, these are happy tears, and that is something foreign that she cannot completely comprehend.

In the meanwhile, Terra seems to have panicked at the situation on their hands, uncertain as his hands awkwardly hover in front of her. “I’m sorry. Did I...say something wrong? Am I wrong?”

There is a swift shake of her head in response, laughter bubbling from her softly ( something heavy weighs in her chest nonetheless, and she cannot help the fact that her smile is tinged with sadness ). “No— I should be the one apologizing. I was simply just...overwhelmed for a moment, sorry. Please don’t think about it.”

Terra looks ready to argue it, but Aqua cuts in, rescuing her yet again with a  gentle grasp on her hand. “Well, we’re happy to have you here. We were going to eat soon, you should join us.” By the way of speaking, she can guess she doesn’t have much choice in it; which is fine, she would have accepted anyways, out of politeness. She giggles when she overhears Chirithy make a comment to Ventus from their spot in his arms about being hungry as they walk back to the main part of their world— that gets the other’s attention, seeming to have remembered something.

“Oh yeah— I was going to ask! How’d you end up here, anyhow? We didn’t hear any Gummi Ship stop by.”

Naminé tilts her head a little, smiling as wordlessly, she produces a Corridors of Darkness and watches the other three jump slightly.

* * *

Being at the islands is always a feeling of conflict, like— she shouldn’t be there. That she doesn’t belong there. Perhaps, it stems from fabricated memories and the feeling of knowing she was doing something wrong ( another part reminds her that the islands are not her home, that she is trying to find comfort in a place that does not exist for her ).

She places those thoughts aside while she is there, though, wedges herself between Xion and Roxas and quietly laughs when they start betting on what the other’s are doing. There are times where she does address those feelings in her heart, side to side with another who understands the struggles of misplaced memories  ( even if she has no one to blame but herself for these shackles, she has to start somewhere— admittedly, Naminé knows that is harder to do so when the people she needs to reconcile with the most aren’t really around ).

Aqua seeks her out at some point— again, odd, she still has to get used to the fact that there are people that aren’t named Roxas or Riku or Xion that want to find her, that there are people that aren’t chained to her that seek her out. That she is wanted, to some extent. Her feet dangle off the dock and dip in the water, stare at her reflection while the elder fusses over her hair; it is a nice feeling, as foreign as such is to her.

“You know you are wanted, right?” As if she knows what she was thinking of, there is a moment where the hand brushing her hair falters, watching her closely. Aqua continues when she opts to not respond, gaze watching as water ripples and breaks through the reflection of herself in the water. “Terra might be quick to trust, but I know he does mean it sincerely. I admit his judgment hasn’t always been great but...we really didn’t help that. You earned that trust by helping him.”

“I didn’t… I didn’t really do anything.” She murmurs, fingers tracing the hem of her dress. “I was just doing what I could.”

The other seems to consider this for a brief moment before shaking her head. “No, really. Thank you. I...don’t know if he would have found his way back as easily without you. Thank you for helping Terra find his way home.”

Home. That is a word that causes Naminé to ache— what is home? Where is home? Was it really as simple to find as that? She always felt a little melancholic, staring out at the sea. “I just helped him find his way back to the light.” That is all she, in part of the darkness, is really good at doing.

Aqua finishes up the braid she’s been making of her hair, pauses to let a hand linger on her shoulder, a gentle squeeze. “Maybe so. That doesn’t make it any less important, does it?” She can’t really find it in herself to argue with her, giving a half-hearted shrug in response. She gets the feeling her response is not exactly one that she wanted to hear, but she does not push the subject any. “Know that we’re here for you if you need anything, okay?”

Naminé hums her acknowledgment as she shuts her eyes, settles with the feeling of the waves lapping at her ankles.

Perhaps it is not so foolish to hope that things will begin to look up.

* * *

Most days, she is content to let her hand drift over paper, busying herself recording memories both old and new; capturing these precious moments in time, even when she is alone. He is the subject of her work more often than not, Naminé is not surprised when this is the way things should be; to see Sora’s features litter her sketchbook is a comfort ( even if she cannot feel his connections anymore, they must still exist ).

She tenses up and feels a little self-conscious of her work when she feels someone plop down beside her, but does not say anything and waits instead, letting her hands continue sketching out an image in silence, until the other is ready to speak.

“I...remember seeing you. Just a little.” Ventus says, like he’s not really sure where to start— which is fair, really, neither is she most of the time.

“While he was asleep?” A pause as she breaks her gaze away from the sketchbook, curiosity lingering in her gaze.

“Yeah. But...that wasn’t the only time, was it?” He holds her gaze until she finally looks away, briefly switching to a yellow crayon before picking up a red one as her hand goes back to sketching out distant memories.

“No, it wasn’t. I had to...I wanted to try and reach you, because you were so connected to...to Sora. I was afraid that when I was fixing Sora’s memories that I...might have interfered with you. I...I wanted to make sure you were okay too.”  To make sure that someone else wasn’t being hurt by her powers, again. She speaks soft and tentatively, voice coming and going like the ocean tides.

“I thought so. You helped me too.” There’s a sense of finality to which he says that with, so she doesn’t say much more than a dip of her head when she responds.

“I suppose.” It’s nothing compared to what the other’s did, but she’s learning to accept all...this, as much as she can.

“No, thank you. I’m not the only one who wants to thank you, I know.”

Her gaze returns to the figures etched out on paper, expression wistful. “I know. I don’t...I don’t need to hear it, but I would like to be able to...see him all right, again.”

Ventus hums his agreement as he leans over to peer at the page, and Naminé relents, moving her hand away from where a dark chaos had made its home on the paper. A tense moment passes before he speaks again. “That’s...a memory, right? Are they okay...?”

For once her smile is a little more genuine, lifting her head up slightly to peer up at him.

“If Sora is there, I think that everything will be okay in the end. We’re here all right, aren’t we?”

* * *

Her demeanor is some mixture of forlorn and yearning as she stares at her sketchbook, fingers trace a person not here and remembers a promise never made. This, perhaps, is why she has a hard time forgiving herself for her actions, why she remains chained to the past— to the person who has arguably been hurt the most by her powers.

“I’m sorry.” Naminé whispers softly, as if she could be heard by someone. “You should be the one here, friend. Not me.”

There is no response, of course; but for a moment, she allows herself to indulge in reminiscing a place that once existed. That had been home once, she thinks ( for a witch like her, it was everything and nothing like what she deserved ). No good comes from lingering on the past, she knows, and yet— she cannot let herself be released from that chain of memories.

“Is that Riku?” A voice speaks from above her and she jumps as she is pulled from the thoughts she’d been dwelling on; gaze torn between darting between the page and the person beside her. “I don’t think I remember that part.”

“I. Er.” Her grasp tightens on the pages ever so slightly, a shake of her head. “Not...exactly?”

“Not exactly.” Terra repeats, confusion evident in his expression, but nods at her regardless. “Do you want to talk about him?”

And she does, the dam of emotions that weigh down her ‘heart’ wants to burst— if nothing else, Naminé needs him to know why she has so much scorn and contempt for herself, the witch who does not deserve all that she has been given ( a second chance— she had not deserved that any more than he ). But those words are heavy and she fears the consequences of speaking them, so she gives another silent shake of her head.

“May I ask you about something else, then?” She doesn’t entirely feel opposed to it, but gives a small shrug in response and allows him to make the call. It is both good and bad that Terra has more questions to ask, that doesn’t allow her to drop the subject completely ( he means no harm, she knows, as much as it pains her to have to face it ).  “I never asked but...you introduced yourself to me as a witch who controls memories. Why...did you introduce yourself like that? Like there is nothing else to you than that?”

Because there isn’t, she wants to shout. So many people have taught her that her only worth to them is her powers— that without her powers that she is nothing, that she has a hard time remembering anything else. “Because that is what I do.” She speaks simply, eyes returning to staring down at a memory of a person who used to be ( a laughable statement, perhaps— who had the right to dictate who was real? Who was meant to exist or not? ) “I...there are people I hurt because of that power. Like a witch.”

His gaze seems to have followed hers, for he is not all that hesitant when he next speaks. “Including him?”

“Including him.” Naminé confirms, biting her lip slightly.

“Tell me about him?” He asks, and this time, she relents. She tells him about the castle, about a boy and a boy— memories of a not boy, and the girl who she could not be. Of papers full of promises and false memories drawn by a lonely witch. He listens in silence, lets her get what she needs to off her chest; though when she is done she cannot bring herself to look up at him.

“You think...that having done that makes you a bad person.” Terra says slowly— conclusively, she can only nod at that, still unable to do anything other than stare down at her hands. “I disagree. I...messed up too, you know? I don’t think that makes us bad people. You...at least you’ve been able to make up for it.”

“I...” She starts and stops, haltingly; the words are hard for her to form. “I’m not so sure. I tried to fix it but...it doesn’t really change what has been done.”

The brunet goes silent with that, the words she has spoken weigh heavy on both of them and she cannot think of anything she can say to fix it. He speaks up, after a few minutes, and tentatively she glances up when his voice almost demands her attention ( despite how softly he speaks ). “Now that I think about it, I never got a chance to thank you. For being there. You might have not been as bright as them, but your light led me too, you know.”

“My...light?” She echoes, hesitantly, glancing away after a moment. “I...see. Thank you.” She might not understand why she would appear as a light to anyone ( Naminé understands the sentiment of what he says, though, that is more than enough ).

“You feeling better now?” He asks, hand ruffling her head gently; genuinely, she can laugh and smile at the gesture.

Better, that is a word— it is not an instant fix to her issues, it does not mean that everything works out perfectly ( better, however, assures progress, and is perhaps all she can ask for these days ).

**Author's Note:**

> Some brief notes for this! The parts where Terra / Naminé refer to lights: the concert conversation mainly refers to Aqua as a singular light, but Riku and Ven have both been referred to as lights that guide Terra at points, so that's where that came from.  
> Yes, the drawing that Naminé is doodling during Ven's part is of Sora and Vanitas. 
> 
> I uhhh think that's all I wanted to say,, I hope this was a good read if you made it to this point u.u


End file.
